Work Text:
Izuku checks his phone for the tenth time in the last five minutes.
He's late, but Kacchan is never late. In fact, he's usually early for guest lectures. After climbing in through the window by Izuku's desk, he'll spend the first twenty-five minutes of their lunch break badgering him in the U.A. faculty office until Aizawa-sensei kicks them both out to chat in the hallway instead. Usually about Katsuki's latest PR blunder or Izuku's newest class update.
Opening their texts, he rereads their conversation from the night before. Nothing unusual—Kacchan confirming to pick Izuku up for Shouto's dinner, Izuku letting him know he got home alright and then being left on read from that morning onward.
At first, Izuku thought maybe he was on duty, but scanning their shared dispatch channels, he found nothing that would require GEMG Dynamight's firepower besides petty crimes any sidekick could handle.
Five minutes before his class starts, Izuku feels like he's losing his mind. He calls, and as the tone rings three, four times, Izuku mumbles, "Please, Kacchan…"
"Yo."
With his phone still pressed to his ear, Izuku glances up to see Kacchan in the doorway. He's not even in his hero suit, his cell phone buzzing from the back pocket of his baggy jeans. It silences when Izuku hangs up.
At least he didn't block his number.
"Kacchan!" Izuku gasps, scrambling to his feet to push him out of the doorway and into the hall. "What the hell?! Do you know what time it is?"
Lazily, Kacchan shrugs. "I'm here now, aren't I?"
It's a weird passive-aggressive response, but Izuku doesn't have time to deal with whatever mood Kacchan's in. Instead, he reaches out for his hand, only for him to lock Izuku's wrist in a deadly grip.
"Don't," Katsuki hisses between bared teeth. His eyes sharp enough to cut Izuku where he stood. "Don't fuckin' touch me."
Izuku stumbles backward, his shoulder hitting the edge of the faculty office door with a muffled bang. The absolute fury in Katuski's face sends Izuku reeling because this is Kacchan—his best friend. Izuku hadn't shivered under his glare since they were beating the shit out of each other at Ground Beta.
In the years since U.A., Izuku has been Katsuki's emergency contact at his agency since he debuted. Izuku's been his plus-one to every hero gala and fundraiser he couldn't stand to go alone.
Katsuki started the fund for the suit to ensure Izuku could be a hero.
It's been nearly a decade since Katsuki sneered at Izuku like he was lower than the dirt beneath his shoe. But on this random Monday afternoon in April, something shifted.
The bell rings, signaling the end of the lunch hour. Katsuki lets go of Izuku's wrists before turning on his heel and heading to the classroom. A couple of students freeze in the hall or turn the other way at the sight of him.
Izuku holds his limp wrist in his hand, still warm from the imprint of Katsuki's fingers.
What the fuck?
Luckily, Katsuki's awful mood doesn't rub onto Izuku's class. While the lack of hero attire throws Class 1-C for a loop, they easily ignore it to pepper Pro-Hero Dynamight with questions.
Izuku leans against the windowsill, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued on Katsuki's profile.
Aside from the usual scowls, he notices the newer dark circles under his eyes. At first, Izuku had chalked them to be from his hero mask. It wasn't until Hatsume spilled how much Katsuki had been squirreling away for his suit that Izuku realized they were most likely from exhaustion.
Well, at least now he has finally got that Porsche.
He senses Kota's eyes on him halfway through the lecture and follows them to where his wrist is still red and angry with Katsuki's fingerprints. Izuku rolls down his shirt sleeves and digs his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Kota's glance darts away.
When the lecture concludes, and Present Mic bursts through the sliding doors for English class, Izuku stands in Katsuki's path, nearly causing him to trip over his shoes.
"What the—"
"One quick thing, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight," Izuku hisses under his breath in a scornful tone, grabbing the back of the other man's shirt. He's wagering that Katsuki won't do anything too violent while Izuku's kids are watching and is proven right when he goes stiff in Izuku's hold.
"Oh Dynamight got Deku-sensei real mad!" One of the students whispers as Izuku smiles innocently before shutting the door with his foot.
Already sensing Katsuki's temper flaring, Izuku quickly tugs the other man down around the corner of the hall before throwing open the door to a nearby supply closet and unceremoniously tossing Katsuki inside like a misbehaving cat.
With a growl, Katsuki leaps to his feet and charges, shoving Izuku into the door hard enough to jam it shut.
"Damn it," Izuku swears under his breath, bucking Katsuki off him. It sends him stumbling back until his foot gets caught in a bucket, and he falls on his ass. Serves him right.
Groaning, Izuku tries to pry the door open, but it's bent at the hinges and is not moving an inch. With a huff, he taps his forehead against the wood. Great.
He turns around and takes a good look at Katsuki.
In the harsh LEDs of the closet, Kacchan looks like when they were both students. Young and furious at the world, burdened with high expectations and too much to prove. Under the gruff exterior, he sees the older, more tired Kacchan before him. Still headstrong but less likely to go nuclear. Usually.
Izuku slaps his trouser pockets, only to realize he's left his cell phone on his desk in the faculty office. Kacchan kicks the bucket off his foot, flipping it over and sitting on it like a stool. He reaches into his pocket for his own phone and frowns.
"Let me guess, no service?"
"Yeah, and ten missed calls and twenty texts from your nagging ass," Kacchan clicks his tongue. With a few taps, Izuku can hear him clearing the notifications. "Is that why you dragged me in here?"
"No it was so we could fight in the broom closet and break the door," Izuku deadpans. "You could've told me you were running late."
"I wasn't late, I was exactly on time."
Izuku huffs. Usually, he would let it go. But something about Kacchan's voice—the way he won't look him in the eye or how his fists are balled up, the tightness of his jaw—makes him feel small again, just like in the hallway.
He waits, and after a moment longer, Izuku demands, "What is your problem?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you," Kacchan hisses, rising to his feet to close in on Izuku against the door. He lifts a hand, but Izuku doesn't sense a threat, so he doesn't block the finger that jabs beneath his collar. "You. You always seem to be my fuckin' problem."
Okay, that stings. Again, Izuku should let it go and focus on fixing the door. To get back to his class. To drop it and let Kacchan deal with whatever's bothering him by himself.
But he doesn't.
"But why ?" Izuku whispers. He grinds his teeth and repeats, "Why? What did I do to you?"
"Don't start with me."
"We were fine last night. Hell, you even asked me to join –"
Kacchan swipes for his arm. Izuku counters the grab, but Kacchan sweeps out his feet, and they both go down. They grapple for control, knocking over brooms and cleaning supplies. Snarling and huffing, Izuku gets a calf around his waist and flips him, then coughs from the elbow that jabs into his stomach. Almost too easily, Katsuki flips them again, leering over Izuku.
Kacchan's hands grip his wrists and slam them to the dirty floor. He pants through wheezing breaths, "God, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you so much."
It hurts to hear that, even if Izuku knows he doesn't mean it. After everything they've been through together, the fact that Katsuki could even still fathom to utter those words cuts him like a knife.
Because even at his lowest, Izuku could never ever hate Katsuki.
"Then why ask me to give up teaching?" Izuku spits back, voice full of venom. He wants to spit up at Kacchan, right in his face, but given his luck, it'll probably miss and fall back in his own eyes. "Why'd the suit, huh?"
Kacchan growls and Izuku is so tempted to trigger said suit under his shirt, but it would tear them through the roof of the school, and Katsuki is damn well using that to his advantage. He pushes his knee into Kacchan's thigh to make the experience of pinning him equally painful and then chokes back a gasp as Katsuki doubles his grip until the burns from before are bruising.
"I thought we were over this shit in high school, Kacchan," Izuku's eyes burn, and he twists in Kacchan's grip, still trying to wrestle his way out. "Why can't you just talk to me like a—"
Kacchan slams his forearm over his wrists, then hovers so close to his face that Izuku sees the hints of tears welling his eyes. "Why'd you say no to me but yes to her?"
The fight sinks out of him. Izuku stops trying to break free and slackens against the grapple. He stares up at Kacchan, speechless.
"Yeah, I know why you left early and who you ran off to meet like a lovesick puppy. The whole class was gossiping about it. I'm sure the girls are already blowing up Round Cheek's phone with wedding plans and baby names."
Izuku's face burns. "Ka…Kacchan!"
"Dammit! This is so stupid!"
Finally, Kacchan breaks his hold and shoves backward, pounding his fists against the wall. It doesn't dent. U.A. is made of stronger stuff to accommodate the hundreds of rowdy teenagers who still don't understand their quirks. Taking a deep breath, Izuku sits up, nervously adjusting his tie with shaky hands.
He figured Kacchan would be annoyed at him saying no to being his sidekick. It's not like he ever did well with rejection. But…this was deeper than just that. Looking up to meet his eyes, he spots the angry tears Katuski tries to hide by rubbing the bridge of his nose at an imaginary headache.
"Oh my god…" Izuku gasps, collapsing back against the busted door. "You're not mad, you're jealous!"
An ugly snorts rips through the room.
"Wow, sounds like you got me all figured out. I feel so special being analyzed like that," Kacchan deadpans, still hiding his eyes. Izuku crawls forward; he's far from done with their argument.
"You should!" Izuku insists stubbornly until he's at Katsuki's side, beside the brooms and mops.
The closet is too small for two grown men to be sitting so close, but now that Izuku knows what's bothering him, maybe he can fix it.
"Kacchan? Can you look at me?"
"I'd rather chug bleach."
Izuku snorts, reaching and pulling Katsuki's hands away from his eyes. "C'mon now..."
He stares up, and Kacchan's petulant pout gives way to an expression of genuine sadness—something gentle, meant only for Izuku. Izuku tries to wipe away some dirt off his face from their scrimmage with his thumb, and some tears fall. "Oh, Kacchan…"
And to think that Izuku got the nickname of crybaby hero when Katuski's just as much of a crier, if not more, when he's at his breaking point.
"Please don't use that tone when you're about to tell me about your new girlfriend and how you can't join my agency because you're going to elope or some shit," Katsuki groans, leaning back against a stepladder to rub his face hard with both his hands. "I'm not kidding, Deku. I will drink that bleach."
Wow, he hasn't heard that nickname off the field in years. This is bad.
Izuku sags, nearly all his weight falling into Katsuki's warmth. He holds him up and even lets Izuku check the heart monitor on his wrist. The numbers tick down slowly as Kacchan's shoulders shift with each of his deep breaths.
"Yeah, it's true. I met up with Uraraka because I wanted to tell her something. After all, we didn't get to talk at the dinner."
"Too busy asking Half-and-Half a hundred questions about those bowl and chopsticks-making classes in Ishikawa."
"Hey! We're getting a free trip out of it!"
"Gonna paint a badass skull on mine and hide a dick somewhere on yours."
"Please don't."
Katuski snorts, and Izuku can't help but smile against the warmth of his shoulder. Now that the worthless rage has exhausted itself out of his muscles, he's starting to recognize his Kacchan again. This is his best friend, his rock. The guy who has a key to every apartment he's ever lived in, including the hole-in-the-wall by his old university where he stayed up all night helping Izuku study for his teaching license. It hurts his heart that Izuku suddenly upset him enough to make him backslide.
"Tsu told me that Uraraka has been having a hard time with…the Toga stuff," Izuku continues, sighing heavily. "We lost touch after graduation because we were doing our own things, but now that I'm hanging out with everyone on patrols, I told her I wanted to talk to her more. I missed her."
"She has been in a weird headspace the last month…I just figured she was being awkward because you're back in the picture. It's not exactly a secret; she's been into you since U.A.," Katsuki mumbles, and Izuku bites his lip nervously. It's noticed instantly. "What? You got the hots for her, too? Was I right?"
"Not…exactly."
Kacchan looks at him with full attention, eyebrows up to his hairline. He's always been a bit of a gossip, making Izuku groan, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
"So…after I met up with her, we stopped in a bar and started talking. It was okay, but I guess we were both already kinda tipsy from the dinner, and then after talking about everything again…at the end of the night, uh…well…she…er…um…"
"Oh my god, Izuku, just say it!"
"She…kissed me?"
"Cool," Katsuki snaps, turning away again to glare at the opposite wall. Izuku really hopes he's not actually eyeing the bottle of bleach. "I was right. You said no to working together 'cause you wanted to swap spit with Round Cheeks. Thanks for getting us locked in a fucking broom closet to tell me, but this could've been a text."
"Kacchan, let me finish!"
"Ugh, I don't wanna hear more of this, you know I'm not," Katsuki motions with his hand. "That kinda guy, right? Go talk to Kaminari or —"
"It…didn't feel good."
"Eh?" Katsuki turns, dumbstruck. "The fuck you mean it didn't feel good? She bite you or something?"
"No! Nothing like that. She was fine. It just felt kind of…forced. Like, I really just wanted to talk to her more, and of course, she's beautiful, but maybe what Shouto was saying about inevitabilities was right, and I was just not on the same page," Izuku blubbers. "I'm sure if there was a moment, I would've maybe been more prepared, but it was when we were leaving the bar after talking — and Kacchan, I dunno like she was my first friend at U.A., and I know what it's like to lose someone you want to save and — UMPH!"
Izuku nearly swallows his tongue when Katsuki slams his hand against his mouth. "Holy shit, I forgot how in your head you get. Just shut the fuck up and breathe, Izuku!"
Blinking, Izuku nods, and Kacchan slowly removes his hand and lets him take a deep breath. Then he crumples softly into Kacchan's warm shoulder and sighs when he feels a warm hand card in his hair. "I was gonna tell you about it today during lunch…but you didn't show up."
"I was avoiding you…still felt like garbage after our talk last night. The Uraraka shit was just salt in the wound at that point," Katsuki finally admits, tugging on Izuku's curls slightly. "Why don't you want to work with me?'
"I was telling the truth last night, Kacchan. I love teaching. Seeing my kids grow and helping them be heroes is better than I ever thought. I can see how for you and the others it may have seemed like a Plan B, and maybe it was at first, but I get what All Might meant when he said he wished he taught sooner. I worked really hard to be here, and I can't give this my all and be your sidekick."
"What about my partner?"
"Kacchan," Izuku sighs again with a small smile, slowly moving back to ensure Katsuki can hear him. "We're already partners. Don't you get that? Being out there with you and everyone again is just another aspect of it. Just like you always come here to help lecture my kids, I get to go out there and help you take down villains. I don't need to be part of an agency to do that."
Katsuki whispers, "I just thought with the suit, we could go back to chasing each other… you'd overtake me, or I'd overtake you. Was I wrong?"
"No," Izuku breathes before he can finish his sentence. "I didn't mean it like that. I want to keep fighting alongside you; I want to keep trying." He meets Kacchan's eyes and falls into a hollow crimson; a new sorrow living there. "I'm sorry that I hurt you when I said no. I never meant to do that, but I don't need to chase you, Kacchan. I haven't in a long time because we're right here."
All he's ever wanted was to be by Kacchan's side, not behind or in front of him.
Katsuki bristles, leaning back against the stepladder. Izuku's hand covers his and squeezes so suddenly that it soothes him. He's been wanting to talk to Katsuki about this, more than what happened with Urakaka — that he's been holding himself back.
The rankings, his temper, the bags under his eyes. Izuku isn't stupid; he knows the man before him better than his soul. Katsuki would never admit it, but he's been holding back in the hope that when Izuku returned, he can push him like when they were young.
But as grateful as Izuku will always be for Katsuki never giving up on him, that doesn't mean he'll let his best friend give up on himself.
"Can you please promise me something— don't wait for me. Promise you'll keep getting stronger no matter what. Even if I'm not your sidekick or partner, okay?"
Katsuki's gaze is so intense that Izuku has to fight the urge to look away. He knows how much he cares about him and how their friendship can sometimes make him vulnerable and dependent, two things he hates to be. But once again, Katsuki is in front of him, caring so much, which makes Izuku want to cry. He never wants Katsuki ever to think he'll lose him, if only because Izuku never wants to think of a universe where Katsuki is no longer beside him.
"That's a dumb thing to promise, but sure, Izuku. I promise to keep getting stronger, kick your ass, and be better than everyone else forever and ever. But you gotta promise me something in return."
Before Izuku can respond, Katsuki takes hold of his face, smashing his cheeks together so his lips jut out like a fish. He squeals like a pig, but Kacchan squeezes harder and focuses his eyes upward. Kacchan’s eyes are such a deep red in the dark like this, nearly black with how they swallow the light.
"If you're gonna keep teaching, then you better fuckin' promise to be the best goddamn teacher here, you hear me? Same with your patrols. No half-assing either job. I won't settle for less than a perfect victory, Izuku. Got it?"
"Got it," he smiles, and when relief floods his face, it softens Kacchan's features.
When Kacchan lets go, the fleeting caress of his fingers brush against Izuku's chin. His hand falls besides Izuku's and a warm buzz hums under his skin, a phantom pain of One For All. Izuku clears his throat.
"You also weren't wrong when you told me I have to be better about letting people know when they're special to me. The only time I ever did that was with you, and…well, you almost died for it."
Katsuki bridges the gap to squeeze his hand at that. They've long laid to rest this guilt trip, but a tiny part of Izuku never did forgive himself for having his affection for Katsuki be so apparent that it made him a target.
"That's why I went to find Uraraka…I didn't mean for anything else to happen between us other than to talk more and become close again. I wasn't trying to make a choice."
"Or play tonsil hockey," Kacchan snarks, and Izuku groans, rubbing his face against his shoulder again.
"Don't make fun of me, Kacchan."
"Did you thank her after?"
"No…"
"Oh? "
"I just walked to the train station afterwards and texted you when I got home."
Katsuki bursts into a loud laugh, and the giddiness of the situation gives Izuku a jittery feeling. He sees Kacchan's scar stretched across his cheek like a constellation, and he is almost overwhelmed by the urge to feel across the stars with his fingers.
"You're useless," Kacchan finally settles with a boyish glee, pushing Izuku to the side. Something warm starts to spread in his chest—similar to the warmth he felt after his drinks with Urakaka, but different. It is as if something has broken free in his chest and is growing.
Izuku feels his ears burn and his chest tighten. No way…could this…
"Kacchan—"
A loud bang breaks their attention, and they both turn to the door. Another bang shakes the door frame before it's yanked open wide by two stripes of fabric tied to Aizawa-sensei's neck. Behind him, Present Mic gawks like he's just walked in on something far more scandalous than two people stuck in the closet.
Aizawa stares at them through tired, half-lidded, and unamused eyes. Then, exhales a long-suffering sigh. "I don't want to know."
"I mean, I kinda do…" Present Mic admits but is silenced by Aizawa's glare before he leaves. "Uh, anyway, Midorya, your kids are ready for you."
"Ah, right! Thank you!" Izuku nods, scrambling to his feet. It takes all his focus not to let the blood rush to his face. Behind him, Kacchan follows him out until they're back in the hallway. Present Mic gives them both a quick once over before gesturing a quick thumbs up and hurrying after wherever Aizawa went.
Now out of the closet, the mood between them turns awkward.
"By the way, sorry about," Kacchan mutters, pointing to Izuku's wrist. "I shouldn't have…yeah."
"Oh, it's fine. I'll go to Recovery Girl later, but um…I really should get back to class. I'm sure they're hanging off the walls by now. I'll…call you tonight when I get home. We should start planning Ishikawa."
Kacchan blinks before nervously shuffling back on his feet. "Sure…yeah, I'll answer."
"Thanks," Izuku rubs the back of his head, laughing nervously with a nod. "See you later."
For the second time in 72 hours, Izuku runs in the opposite direction from Kacchan. This time, he can't help but notice that his heart is beating faster than before.